Slytherin Sins: Gluttony
by Bex Drake
Summary: Everyone has a way of coping with their problems. Crabbe's involves eating. ONE SHOT


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, it belongs to JK Rowling. This is a series of one-shots based on the Seven Deadly Sins.

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**Gluttony** n. "the vice of excessive eating"- OED, online. 

"Wasting of food, either through overindulgence in food, drink or intoxicants, misplaced desire for food for its sensuality, or withholding food from the needy ("excessive love of pleasure" was Dante's rendering). In the Latin lists of the Seven Deadly Sins, gluttony is referred to as _gula_."- Wikipedia

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**Gluttony**

"…_did you see?"_

"…_Oh God! It was…"_

"…_I know! How can he…"_

"…_nothing more than… lapdogs!"_

"…_no brain…"_

"…_wonder who he marries, probably…"_

Crabbe tucked into his food without a word; forking up one mouthful after another as he listened to the other houses gossip about his own. It always sickened him that they looked down their pompous noses and called Slytherin evil, and yet there they were spreading rumours about the people that made up his house.

His father had once told him that to be Slytherin was to be an outcast; no one but another Slytherin would accept him once he was sorted into the house. He had called his father a liar and gotten beaten for his trouble; now he saw the stark truth, his father had been right. The Ravenclaw's were too bright to associate outside of their own. The Hufflepuff's were too scared of the whispers from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. The Gryffindor's were too… noble to even contemplate associating themselves with people who saw the world in greys rather than in black and white. His own house was no better: the Ravenclaw's thought too much of themselves, the Hufflepuff's were too dim and Gryffindor… well, Gryffindor was too noble.

It made him sick.

But he wasn't stupid, his mother had made sure of that- you always protected yourself and your family, the very Slytherin trait that Gryffindor seemed to find most offensive.

"…_can you believe that…?"_

"…_it just makes me sick!"_

"…_they're…junior Death Eaters!"_

"_Shh!"_

"…_not like they care the way…"_

"…_their choice to announce it to the world."_

"…_used to be friends…"_

"…_keep that quiet…"_

The other three houses seemed to believe that they- the members of Slytherin- weren't separate of their parents and couldn't form their own opinion. Or perhaps, worse, they Saw and looked away. Slytherin was a divided house. The majority of his peers held different views to their parents, but everyone outside of Slytherin were too blind to see that. Just as they were too blind to see the scars on Pansy's arms, Malfoy's regular bruises (Potter couldn't have inflicted them all!), Goyle's anger, Zabini's silence, Millie's tears and his anguish.

They all hurt, and yet either the other houses were stupid or they were cruel. Pansy preferred to believe they were stupid whilst Zabini knew they were cruel. That they couldn't miss the scars they all wore, like half-forgotten trophies of a lost battle. He wasn't sure which to believe, because both hurt in their own way. He was sure that people like the Mudblood Granger weren't stupid but they also weren't cruel- look at her ridiculous crusade for House Elf rights! But still nothing happened, and they were left to stand on their own. So much for house unity.

"…_never seen someone eat…"_

"…_huge! Like an…"_

"…_bigger than that! More like…"_

"…_has no brains. Just follows…"_

"…_Malfoy's pets…"_

"…_don't you think…?"_

"_Hermione! Hush, it's not like…"_

"…_house unity…"_

"…_they're Slytherin…"_

"…_not their fault…"_

Food was his sanctuary. It didn't question his loyalty, or make snide remarks behind his back. It didn't think it was superior, better. It just was.

It didn't matter what sort of food it was, any food was good. It didn't even matter if it was the second rate stuff from the Hogwarts' kitchens- his Mother and the House Elves made better food at home, he didn't see why people said it was so extraordinarily good. He ate anything from things he didn't like, like liver and onions, to things he loved, like black forest gateaux's. It didn't matter.

Sitting and eating he could forget about the injustice of the world; that you weren't innocent until proven guilty if you had certain Pureblood surnames. He could forget about the whispers that followed any Slytherin student through the corridors of Hogwarts as if they were deaf. Mostly though, he ate because it helped him forget about his father's choices and how they affected his own.

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**Note:** I have to say, I've never thought of Crabbe or Goyle as just lumbering thugs and I think this goes some way to explain why Crabbe is like he is. This pretty much went to plan; I think the Slytherin world I'm writing about here is much darker than in the books. Look out for the third part in the series: 'Avarice'. 


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